Crazy
by maddymellark
Summary: Nine times Cato thinks Clove is crazy, and one time she thinks he is. Each chapter 100 words.
1. Chapter 1

The first time he meets Clove, she is ten and him thirteen.

Already he is a huge brute, and when he spots her small frame awkwardly shuffling along with the new intakes, he grins. At lunch, she eats alone. When he walks over with swagger and sits opposite her, she doesn't look up. His insults are empty and pathetic, but, oh, they infuriate her.

Then, there is a fork wedged in his hand.

As the crimson blood mixes with his beef stew, he looks up to find her cold, mean eyes _daring_ him to say something.

"You're crazy."


	2. Chapter 2

The next time they speak is a year later.

Clove moves up a class. They all stare, shocked and confused and amazed, as this tiny eleven year old stands amongst fourteen year olds with muscles and height and confidence. She becomes the Queen of Knives, her words sharper and more cutting than her chosen weapon. Cato struggles with knives, however, and when a trainer pulls Clove aside to whisper in her ear, he already knows what it's about. She comes over to him, and says through gritted teeth - "we're training partners." He barks a laugh.

"You're crazy."


	3. Chapter 3

Cato hates Clove.

Strange to decide that now, when three years later he still has the mark when she stabbed him with a fork. But they are training partners, and spending hours upon hours with her is _hell._ She laughs when he misses with a knife, he snorts when she can't lift a weight. She snickers when he reveals that he can't swim, he mocks her when she tells him she's never lifted a sword.

"We're best friends!" She says, voice dripping with sarcasm when someone asks.

He knows she's joking, but.

"You're crazy!"


	4. Chapter 4

He hates to admit it, but they've got a good groove.

Together they are unstoppable. Cato is the muscle, good with close range and hand to hand and threats. Clove is agile and nimble, with knives and torture techniques that sometimes make Cato shudder. They're friends now, though they don't acknowledge it. She's fourteen, she doesn't fit in with his friends, all strong and dumb with egos bigger than his, or tall and curvy with blonde hair and flirty smiles.

So, at lunch, he ditches them to sit with her.

 _(Even though she's crazy.)_


	5. Chapter 5

He couldn't picture sharing this with anyone else.

They stand tall and proud on the stage together, him the first to volunteer and her willingly Reaped. They make an excellent team, five years of training side by side has slowly formed an excellent bond - one that can't be broken by bickering and mindless insults. The thought of killing her, stupidly, doesn't even cross his mind as he pictures riding chariots together and having matching training scores.

He's brought back to earth by her shaking his hand, and promising to crush him. He scoffs - "You're crazy."


	6. Chapter 6

They are adored.

They are ruthless and gold in their chariots - Twelve might be on literal fire but they are gladiators, symbols of death and strength. In their interviews she is sweet and arrogant and stunning in her orange dress, and he is cocky and flirty and casual and attractive. After they leave the stage their names are still being called, and they leave an imprint on minds. A weepy love confession and a twelve year old hold nothing to them.

They bicker about who's loved more by the Capitol, and when she claims its her -

"You're crazy."


	7. Chapter 7

In the Bloodbath they are _glorious._

She throws knives into hearts like it's nothing, ending lives with a snap of her fingers. He slashes at young children who can't defend themself, but he just doesn't _care_. They take down the pair from Twelve together, a knife to shock and a sword to end. Afterwards they bask in the sun, weapons stained red and other people's blood splattered up their arms, but they don't notice.

"That was fun." She says, eyes insane, and when he replies "you're crazy" it's with a mad, mad smile.


	8. Chapter 8

The moonlight catches her face perfectly, and he falls in love.

They sit in the cornacopia, the blood of their allies on their hands, and talk about everything under the sun. He doesn't listen to what she's saying, only her voice - patronising and beautiful. He watches how her eyes lighten up when she's excited, and he stares at her lips as she forms words, wanting nothing more than to kiss them. He brings up the subject of her boyfriends, and she says she's never been normal enough for one.

"Well, I love that you're crazy."


End file.
